Marnma was deep in preparations for the ball, and could not help her afflicted daughter, though she was much disappointed at the mishap.  So Belle drove off, resolved to have her flowers whether there were any or not.

Any one who has ever tried to match a ribbon, find a certain fabric, or get anything done in a hurry, knows what a wearisome task it sometimes is, and can imagine Belle’s state of mind after repeated disappointments.  She was about to give up in despair, when some one suggested that perhaps the Frenchwoman, Estelle Valnor, might make the desired wreath, if there was time.

Away drove Belle, and, on entering the room, gave a sigh of satisfaction, for a whole boxful of the loveliest forget-me-nots stood upon the table.  As fast as possible, she told her tale and demanded the flowers, no matter what the price might be.  Imagine her feelings when the Frenchwoman, with a shrug, announced that it was impossible to give mademoiselle a single spray.  All were engaged to trim a bridesmaid’s dress, and must be sent away at once.

It really was too bad! and Belle lost her temper entirely, for no persuasion or bribes would win a spray from Estelle.  The provoking part of it was that the wedding would not come off for several days, and there was time enough to make more flowers for that dress, since Belle only wanted a few for her hair.  Neither would Estelle make her any, as her hands were full, and so small an order was not worth deranging one’s self for; but observing Belle’s sorrowful face, she said, affably: 

“Mademoiselle may, perhaps, find the flowers she desires at Miss Berton’s.  She has been helping me with these garlands, and may have some left.  Here is her address.”

Belle took the card with thanks, and hurried away with a last hope faintly stirring in her girlish heart, for Belle had an unusually ardent wish to look her best at this party, since Somebody was to be there, and Somebody considered forget-me-nots the sweetest flowers in the world.  Mamma knew this, and the kiss Belle gave her when the dress came had a more tender meaning than gratified vanity or daughterly love.

Up many stairs she climbed, and came at last to a little room, very poor but very neat, where, at the one window, sat a young girl, with crutches by her side and her lap full of flower-leaves and petals.  She rose slowly as Belle came in, and then stood looking at her, with such a wistful expression in her shy, bright eyes, that Belle’s anxious face cleared involuntarily, and her voice lost its impatient tone.

As she spoke, she glanced about the room, hoping to see some blue blossoms awaiting her.  But none appeared; and she was about to despond again, when the girl said, gently: 

“I have none by me now, but I may be able to find you some.”

“Thank you very much; but I have been everywhere in vain.  Still, if you do get any, please send them to me as soon as possible.  Here is my card.”